


The Sharp Edges We Use to Cut Ourselves

by QuagmireMarch



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hints of JJ/Yuri, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:48:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuagmireMarch/pseuds/QuagmireMarch
Summary: JJ is struggling with accepting himself. Yuri Plisetsky has no time for his crap, even when he doesn't know what it is. Somehow, this helps.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	The Sharp Edges We Use to Cut Ourselves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScribblesInTheMargins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribblesInTheMargins/gifts).



> This was meant to be something less...angsty, but well, here we are. Still, I think it maybe gives a different read on JJ as a character?

JJ sighed as Isabella wrapped her arms around his waist. He knew she meant to be supportive, but the embrace felt more like a prison than comfort. He loved her; he did. But, it’d been a long time since either of them believed they were _in love_ with each other, were anything more than very good friends both playacting to meet expectations.

He was so tired of pretending. Pretending to be what the Church wanted, pretending he longed for the white picket fence and children his parents wanted from him so desperately some day. Pretending to be an utterly arrogant asshole just to keep all the so very pretty boys he competed with at arms length so no one would know the truth.

The worst part was his parents would accept him. He knows this. They’d tell him they love him, support him as they always have. And it would cost them everything: their friends, the Church, their dreams of a chapel wedding and cute grandchildren with JJ’s eyes and Isabella’s smile. They’d never once blame him for it either. Which only made the ache deeper, harsher.

“Hey,” Bella whispered at him, “it’s okay. You’ve got this. You’re the best skater here.” She offered a gentle squeeze as he didn’t respond, her eyes growing sad. “Oh. This isn’t about the competition. JJ, just tell them the truth. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“I can’t talk about this now, Bella.” JJ sighed as he slipped free from her loose hold. “I have to warm up.”

They both knew he had plenty of time, but she didn’t push, just let him go. Sometimes he wished she’d do something else, but in his heart JJ recognized that frustration was directed more at himself than at her. It ate at him, all these secrets and denials of himself, little nibbles at the edges of his sanity that left everything around him feeling colorless and heavy.

In his worst moments he wondered just how many pieces he had left to lose before there was nothing left.

##

Yuri Plisetsky exploded into the GPF competition with all the subtlety of a hand grenade and twice as much aggression. The first thing JJ ever heard said about the guy was, “He’s just a kid, fifteen. Why the hell is he even in seniors?”

And JJ had thought: _Oh, this is good. Someone I can talk to without worrying about….everything. It’ll be great!”_

It was not great. It was, in fact, a disaster. Plisetsky showed up while JJ had been in the middle of one of his ‘don’t look here, nothing to see but an arrogant jackass routines’ wherein he called all of the skaters around him second-place wannabes. Mean, but it was that or spend fifteen minutes trying not to touch Victor Nikiforov’s hair and try desperately not to stare at the ass Chris Giacometti went to great efforts to makes sure everyone saw.

So much easier to not be gay if none of the other boys wanted to get too close. Well, easier to hide it anyway. He’d given up on the not being several skating season and a million prayers ago.

But, Plisetsky walked into the room at that moment, and he took it _personally_. And unlike the others, he didn’t just shy away and pretend JJ didn’t exist. Oh, no. He went nuclear, up on his toes screaming right in JJ’s face.

Way, way too close to JJ’s face. And it so did not help that Yuri Plisetsky was _beautiful_. Yes, he was loud and harsh and all sharp edges, but he glittered like the edge of broken glass. Threatening and magical all at once and very, very dangerous.

Also, very, very fifteen. Even if he neither looked nor acted it.

JJ didn’t even remember what he said. Something dismissive, probably mean. All he knew was he had to _leave._  
  
He ran straight to Isabella’s room, the tears waiting to fall until the door closed. She didn’t ask, just opened her arms and let JJ fall into them, humming soothing melodies as she rubbed his back.

She didn’t tell him it’d be okay. Isabella did a lot for him, but she never lied.

Yet, even as the guilt and grief and fear and shame all poured out in his tears, JJ remembered the hard glitter of blue-green eyes, the absolute fearlessness of a tiny frame pushing against someone so much larger. He suspected nothing dared stand in Yuri Plisetsky’s way for long.

And for once, JJ actually felt like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to stand in his own either. He couldn’t have said why the younger man had such an impact on him, but right then in that moment it felt like hope, and so he didn’t question it. He just let the pain wash away with his tears.

When they dried, he looked up at Bella with a weak smile. “So,” he said, voice shaking, “you want to come with me to talk to my parents?”


End file.
